Chapter 3 #2
Ronan Ashford was the closest thing to a cinnamon roll among the three…
if cinnamon rolls were laced with arsenic and a penchant for violence.
He had a reckless energy about him, quick-witted and unpredictable, but make no mistake, he was just as dangerous as the others, if not more so.
His black hair, longer on top, somehow always looked effortlessly perfect, not a strand out of place even in the wind.
His deep blue eyes were deceptively easy to get lost in, full of mischief one second and something far more lethal the next.
He had the kind of face that could be disarming if you didn’t know better: chiselled cheekbones framed a straight, aristocratic nose and plush lips that always seemed to be curled into a cheeky grin like he was always in on some secret joke that no one else would understand.
His pale skin made the scars on his face more noticeable.
A predator with a charming smile, the kind of man who would slit your throat while telling you not to take it personally.
“There’s something in those woods,” Darian said to him, “and tonight is the perfect time to check it out since we are off duty.” Then, without hesitation, he started walking towards the woods.
Kieran and Ronan exchanged a look before following, though Ronan looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath, panic rising in my chest. If they went that way, they’d find Xarothar; if they did, they would kill him without a second thought.
Not sure how you kill a dragon, but a baby one would be easy.
I couldn’t let that happen; I needed to get back before they got there.
Muscles tensed, I turned on my heel and sprinted down the alley, my cloak behind me as I weaved between abandoned stalls and side streets.
My heart was pounding as the cool night air stung my cheeks, but I didn’t slow. I knew these paths better than most.
Just ahead, the forest loomed, its towering trees standing like silent sentinels, their shadowy forms stretching in the night. There was no sign of the hunters yet. I was so close, with just a few more steps, I could slip into the darkness, where I could disappear.
Suddenly, I was pulled backwards, my back slamming into the rough bark of a tree. A sharp gasp escaped me as a hand closed around my throat, again.
This was fucking ridiculous.
I forced my eyes open, and there he was—the blood mage from this morning.
Up close, he looked even more unhinged, his eyes glinting with something between amusement and curiosity, like he was enjoying this a little too much.
His grip wasn’t crushing but firm enough to remind me that he was in control.
“Really?” I rasped, glaring up at him. “We’re doing this again?”
He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “You make it too easy, little witch.” His voice was smooth, edged with something dark.
I shifted, fingers twitching, magic crackling beneath my skin, but before I could react, he pressed closer.
Heat radiated off him, his body a wall of muscle trapping me against the tree.
My heartbeat stuttered, then picked up—annoyingly fast. I lifted my knee, aiming low, but he moved with infuriating ease, dodging like he had expected it. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“Ah, ah,” he chided, his eyes flicking down for a split second before returning to mine, wicked amusement dancing in them. “I wouldn’t do that, love. Precious jewels and all that jazz.” Then he winked.
He actually winked at me. Wait, was he flirting with me?
The sheer audacity of it had me grinding my teeth.
My irritation burned hotter, overriding the weird twisting sensation curling in my stomach.
I parted my lips, but before I could say anything, a cool finger pressed against my lips.
My entire body tensed from his gentle touch, but he wasn’t even paying attention to me now.
His head was tilted to the side. In the distance, I heard the steady crunch of boots against the dirt. The hunters were getting closer.
“They’re looking for you.” His red eyes met mine, and his finger brushed against my lip.
“No, they’re looking for something,” I shot back, annoyance creeping into my voice. “Can you just piss off? I need to get back to…”
“Your dragon.” He finished, and my breath hitched.
His grip on my throat tightened—not enough to choke me, just enough to remind me that he could if he wanted to. And gods help me, I kind of didn’t hate it.
My stomach dropped, “How do you…”
He pressed in closer, his body heat seeping into my skin. Leaning in, his breath ghosting against my lips, and then he smiled, sharp white teeth glinting in the dim light, showing his fangs.
“I’ve been watching you for a while.”
Creep.
“You’ve become my favourite pastime.” His fingers pinched my bottom lip.
My pulse slammed against my ribs. The way he said it—it wasn’t just a taunt. It was a confession. I clenched my jaw, and I could feel my magic becoming restless, but he only chuckled darkly, like he found my reaction entertaining.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” he continued, finally loosening his grip. “Your dragon is safe, and since I am feeling particularly generous tonight, I think I will do my good deed for the day and distract them for you.” He kissed the tip of my nose and then vanished.
I couldn’t afford to get into a fight with them tonight. Darian can’t know about me because nothing will stop him from telling Vespera.
Our past wouldn’t stop him from outing me.
I had to protect Xarothar from them; he was vulnerable and by himself.
My magic was still bound, so there’s no way to protect him without draining my body.
The blood mage hadn’t exactly been clear on his plans to distract them, but there was no chance in hell I was going to sit back and trust him. I trusted no one but myself.
If my bloody powers weren’t locked down, I would be there already handing their asses to them, but instead, I had to rely on my elemental magic. It wasn’t useless, but it came with its own set of complications.
Lots of side effects, a cruel reminder of the spell my mother placed on me years ago.
“Raven.”
I let out a quiet breath of relief, but I didn’t slow down as I darted between the trees, “Oh, thank the gods. Are you okay? And how the hell does the blood mage know about you?”
The wind picked up as I neared the clearing, spotting the hunters ahead with their weapons drawn—and they weren’t just searching anymore.
They were fighting. Well, they were trying to.
The blood mage moved like a phantom, slipping through their attacks with fluid grace that made it painfully clear he was toying with them.
He ducked, sidestepped and twisted away at the very last second, grinning like he was enjoying it.
I pressed back against the tree, peeking around the trunk. The hunters had shifted into a defensive circle, blades raised, and they looked pissed. Good.
“He was in the cottage,” Xarothar's voice returned, edged with irritation. “Snooping. I caught him sniffing your underwear.”
I nearly tripped. “He what?”
“You heard me.” I wish I didn’t.
A full-body shiver ran through me. “That is… deeply disturbing.”
“Agreed, but I handled it.”
“Oh?” I kept my eyes locked on the fight. Darian lunged, silver sword flashing.
Just before he could strike him, I flicked my fingers, summoning the earth. A thick vine shot from the ground, coiling around his wrist and yanking him down hard. He hit the dirt with a curse.
“What exactly did you do?” I asked, watching Darian struggle.
Xarothar's amusement rippled through my mind. “I burned his backside.”
A laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Serves him right.”
Kieran’s sharp gaze swept over the clearing as he sliced clean through the vine binding Darian’s wrist. The severed tendrils writhed for a moment before withering into the dirt.
“There’s a god damn witch here!” Darian snarled at the other two as he scrambled to his feet, immediately dusting himself off. He raised his sword again and lashed out, catching the blood mage's cheek.
Oh, he’s going to be pissed.
The mage barely reacted. He took a step back, swiping his finger through the crimson trail on his face. Then, with deliberate ease, he brought it to his lips, licking the blood clean. His eyes gleamed, sharp and red.
“Oh, that’s foul,” I muttered.
“Having fun?” Xarothar's voice slithered through my mind, thick with amusement.
I smirked. “I’m quite entertained.”
Darian charged again, but I was faster. With a flick of my wrist, the air shifted—twisting, surging—before slamming into him like an invisible battering ram. He launched backwards, crashing into a tree with a grunt of pain.
Ronan and Kieran barely had time to react before I turned my attention to the stream running just beyond them.
My fingers danced through the air, pulling the water toward me in rippling tendrils.
It coiled and churned, gaining momentum as I flicked my hand forward.
A wave ripped from the surface, slamming into them with the force of a storm surge, knocking them clean off their feet.
The blood mage, who I needed to figure out the name of, stood idly by, arms crossed, watching me with something between amusement and admiration.
“Well, fellas,” he drawled, stepping back, his grin full of mischief.
“Wonderful sparring session, but I must be off.” He quickly looked at me and winked at me again before disappearing. I exhaled sharply, my fingers twitching as I let the last of my magic settle.
“Shit, my back—I think it’s broken.” Ronan groaned as he stretched up, wincing dramatically.
Kieran rolled his neck with a slightly pissed and bored expression, “If it were broken, you’d be on the ground crying like a bitch.” He said back, his voice incredibly deep and rough.
I quite liked it.
Ronan shot him a glare. “Real fucking comforting, Kieran. If I ever get the urge to die dramatically, I’ll make sure you’re not invited.”
Kieran smirked slightly—just barely. “Noted.”
“Don’t be getting any ideas, Raven.” I rolled my eyes at Xarothar.
“Relax, it’s not like I’m jumping into bed with him.” He was quiet then as I kept my eye on them.
Darian stormed towards them, his fists clenching as he bent to retrieve their weapons. His ash blonde hair was messy now, falling out of his top knot as he threw the weapons at them.
“Are we telling Vespera about this?” Ronan asked Darian.
“No, not yet. We aren’t on duty, so there’s no need to report.” He replied.
I could tell Ronan was about to reply, but Darian gave him a look, “Call me her little lap dog and I’ll castrate you.”
Ronan snorted, muttering as he adjusted himself like he needed to protect his valuable assets. Kieran said nothing, just fell into step beside Darian, and Ronan reluctantly followed, grumbling.
Idiots.
Something soft brushed against my leg, and a startled yelp escaped me before I could stop it. I slapped a hand over my mouth, my heart hammering as I turned —only to find a small, white unicorn staring up at me with vivid green eyes. It nudged me again, completely unbothered by my reaction.
I barely had time to process the sight before my attention snapped back to the hunters in the distance. They had stopped. Their heads tilted, scanning the shadows in my direction.
I was hidden, but the unicorn was not. I let out a low sigh, rolling my shoulders as a familiar heat curled in my veins.
Looks like I’d have to handle this myself.